You're A Wizard, Little Us
by slayst
Summary: Take the shyest, nicest innocent ten years old you can find and give him the most capricious luck ever... now quintuple it. Good luck Harry James Potter, you're going to need it.


Welcome, dear readers, to " _You're A Wizard, Little Us",_ an Harry Potter story inspired by Kagaseo's _"Echoes"_.

I hope you'll have a good time reading this.

 _Don't talk to strangers.  
_

* * *

The More The Crazier.

* * *

As he entered the safety of a certain home, hidden in plain sight in central London, a twenty-three years old Harry James Potter sighed loudly. At long last, it was over.

For now, that is, as there was a rather high probability that what was to come would totally nullify his previous work. With his source unwilling to expand on the subject, the green-eyed wizard had simply found it prudent – and extremely satisfying – not to leave any loose end behind.

That's right, he was leaving. Not just the town, country, or even the Wizardry World. No, since nothing was holding him back anymore, he was plainly and simply leaving the timeline altogether.

So long, suckers.

His friends were all dead, no exception. Some had been killed years ago, during Riddle's reign of terror, while others had been killed along the years following his demise, by the few remaining Death Eaters still trying to grasp some slivers of power. And of course, there was Luna Lovegood, dead in her sleep, out of sadness at seeing her friends disappear… painless, lucky her.

Him? Oh, he was quite alive, which made him the unluckiest of them all.

Again, his friends were all dead… and so was his wife, his _pregnant_ wife. The sun of his life and their unborn child had been killed just a week prior, by those same dark wizards responsible for his friends' early departure for the far beyond.

Harry had consecutively resigned from his position as an Unspeakable and done what he knew best… kill. He'd spent a week hunting down and slaughtering those bastards, the last one going down not fifteen minutes ago courtesy of a sword to the neck.

At long last, it was over.

…

Well then, time to do it again.

Holding the Elder Wand in his right hand, the Cloak of Invisibility tightly secured around his frame, the wizard silently summoned the Stone of Resurrection. As usual, a black figure shimmered into existence next to him, a bony hand clutching his shoulder, but he paid it no mind.

With the black rock held firmly in his left fist, Harry slowly put the wand's tip right under his chin and cast the one spell he hated the most.

" _Avada Kedavra."_

* * *

A ten years old Harry James Potter opened his eyes to an extremely familiar ceiling and, letting those same eyes wander around him, observed his cupboard under the stairs.

He had absolutely zero reason to be happy about his current sleeping arrangements.

What he had a reason to react to though, were the four people sprawled on the floor, making the room appear even smaller that it already was.

Who were those people? What where they doing in his room?

He didn't dare to ask, his natural shyness and fear of this unconventional situation mixing together, efficiently keeping his mouth shut. Also, and despite his glasses, it was simply too dark for the boy to see more that their shapes, mere outlines really.

Their voices though, remained clearly audible. They were all groaning, mumbling and babbling softly. One of them, a boy slightly older than him, said something about a necklace, while another, a teenager, kept on talking about a Sirius, whatever that could be. The third one, a young woman if he trusted her voice, only commented how it had being rougher than expected.

"SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY!" suddenly roared a deep manly voice, belonging to the fourth intruder.

Surprised by the outburst, young Harry's heart happily jumped in his chest. He was one hundred percent sure that it could be heard in the following silence. The boy and the teenager reacted in a similar way, the shock even stopping that last one's running tears.

"Damn, you kids sure are noisy." complained the man. "I couldn't even hear myself think."

"Who're you calling a kid?" hissed the woman. "And noisy or not, you didn't have to –"

"What's all that racket?" suddenly asked another female voice, coming from… outside of the cupboard.

Harry flinched and the teenager cursed as the sound of footsteps grew closer.

"– shout." finished the woman with a sigh.

"I don't know what you're doing in there –" continued the new voice, the cupboard's door opening abruptly. "– but you'd better –"

The words died.

Harry stopped breathing.

There, standing with her mouth wide open, was his frozen aunt, Petunia Dursley. She was staring at the four visitors in stunned disbelief, obviously trying to understand if their presence had something to do with his 'freakiness', as her husband called it. Harry had no doubt that she would come to the conclusion that, yes, it was entirely his fault.

In three, two, one…

"VERNOOOOON!"

* * *

When fifteen years old Harry James Potter had fallen through the Veil of Death, the only thing on his mind had been to stay with his godfather, Sirius Black. So what if he had to die for that? He was a Hufflepuff, he wouldn't abandon his only remaining family, no matter the cost.

Now though, he was far more focused on the sudden and unexpected family he'd just been offered.

Himself… he was looking at a whole other bunch of himself, standing in the small cupboard under the stairs at number 4 Privet Drive.

One seemed young enough to be out of Hogwarts, somewhere around nine or ten years old. The second looked closer to his own age, third or fourth year maybe, dressed in casual clothing. The third him was older, probably in his mid- or late-twenties, with battle robes he'd only seen before on members of the DMLE, making him look like a carbon copy of their father.

As for the girl, she was in her early twenties and wore a set of dark blue robes. The fifth year may not be able to discern the infamous scar through her long black silky hair, but her bright green eyes remained a dead giveaway. She was a Potter too, most assuredly a female version of him.

"Hey there, Aunt Petunia. How's it going? Heard some juicy gossips lately?" smiled the man, waving innocently at the screeching woman standing by the door.

Their aunt had no time to answer. Attracted by her scream, Vernon Dursley had started to charge toward the cupboard, his angry steps shaking the entire house. The fat whale of a man appeared next to his wife mere moments later, his sweaty face immediately turning an unhealthy shade of purple as he glared at the intruders.

"WHO ARE YOU? WHO LET YOU IN MY HOUSE? IT WAS THE FREAK, WASN'T IT?"

Harry would have gladly cursed the pig, if only to stop him from scaring the two younger him, but older and female him defended them faster.

"Sure, the culprit's always the orphan." spatted the guy. "Great detective skills you got there, you fat lump."

"Don't blame the kid, Uncle Vernon." added the girl. "He didn't do anything."

"Uncle?" repeated the youngest in a whisper.

Merlin, he'd been so introverted at the time. Come on, mini-him, gather your confidence and speak louder.

"Yes, he's our uncle too." she answered.

Young Harry looked at her funny, obviously trying to understand and just as clearly failing. He was probably asking himself why he suddenly had cousins, while he instead should have wondered how five versions of him could possibly be standing in the same room without reality collapsing unto itself.

Two or three years in Hogwarts would be enough to remove all that dumbness from young him apparently, as the slightly older wizard suddenly gasped in understanding.

"Wait, you mean that…?" he stammered.

The lady answered with a smile, taping her forehead with a finger.

Yep, she had the scar.

The guy stared at her for a second, before his eyes drifted to the young them, to him, and ultimately to the James lookalike.

Five Potters, five scars.

"But… how's that possible?"

"Something went wrong." sighed the woman.

"Understatement of the century." added the man, sounding partly amused and partly annoyed.

"WHAT ARE YOU NUTJOBS TALKING ABOUT?" suddenly shouted Uncle Vernon, whose face had turned even darker after being both insulted and ignored.

"I don't have time for this." grumbled older him, taking out his wand and stunning the two Dursleys in one swift move.

Wait a minute, that wasn't their wand, that was Professor Dumbledore's. What was he doing with that?

"You kept that thing?" asked the girl, sounding almost revulsed.

"Sure." nodded the Auror. "Why? You didn't?"

"I broke it in two –"

"… what?"

"– and threw it through the Veil."

A shiver ran down Harry's spine.

"What?" repeated the man.

"The stone too."

"WHAT?!" he yelled. "What is wrong with you?"

"What is wrong with YOU?!" retorted female him. "Those things are just… vile. I mean, insatiable bloodthrist and necromancy? Nobody should have that kind of tools."

"If it wasn't for those _tools_ , I wouldn't even _be_ here." replied older him, pointing at his younger versions. "You want to deal with those three by yourself? Cause I can always jump again, you know."

"Go on then, jump. I won't stop you."

"As if you could." he snorted.

Okay, Harry didn't know what was so important about those items for female and older him to argue like that, but they had to cut it out. Necromancy or not, between the stunned Dursleys and the growing argument, the youngest him looked positively terrified.

"HEY!" shouted the fifth year, butting in on the two adults' conversation and drawing their attentions unto himself. "Take it down a notch, will you? You're scaring him."

Older and female him glanced at the trembling boy.

"Right, the midget."

That earned older him a glare from the girl. She didn't further comment on the insult though, choosing instead to speak in as soft a voice as possible to comfort the kid.

"Sorry little guy, we got carried away."

"Yeah, because you're throwing _freaking Hallows_ around." grumbled the man.

"What's done is done, quit it." she snapped. "And if you can't, leave. We sure could use the break."

The guy actually laughed at that.

"No, I think I'll stick around. I want to see how you handle this mess."

"Better than you would, that's a given." she replied. "Now either shut up or make yourself useful and find Dudley. We don't want him to find his parents unconscious and gather the neighborhood with his screams."

"Fine, I'll handle the whale." smirked the Auror, making his way to the door, only to stop on the threshold. "Oh, and while I'm gone, try not to throw any of the kids in the Veil."

"Asshole." muttered the woman, glaring at the man as he disappeared in the house.

Harry had to agree with her.

* * *

Thirteen years old Harry James Potter had no idea how to react.

Being thrown across space and time by a malfunctioning necklace and meeting four other versions of oneself in a dusty cupboard wasn't exactly an everyday occurrence, after all.

But he was a Gryffindor, wasn't he? He was suppose to act, not react. That was their thing, they were always on the move, his dad had told him so.

Except that the only significant part of the situation that would have required a Gryffindorish treatment had already been solved by old him when he'd stunned the banshee and the walrus. Their aunt and uncle, apparently.

The other male him had then managed to calm the starting debate between the two older Potters, leading to the man going after some Dudley guy who was apparently their cousin, while the woman tried to calm the youngest him.

Truth be told, Harry felt rather useless.

"Hey, you two." suddenly called the returning older wizard from the hallways, dumping an unconscious boy on the two stunned adults and kicking the father, seemingly just for the heck of it. "Care to talk for a second?"

Harry and the teenager exchanged a look.

"Sure." shrugged Harry, as he had nothing better to do.

"What do you want?" asked his counterpart.

"Just wondering how you two ended up here." replied the adult wizard, before adopting a somewhat kinder tone. "If you want to talk about it, that is."

So, being overly disrespectful, cynical and acting like a total ass was his basic setting, but he could act like a normal person too.

"Necklace mishap." began Harry, happy to finally have a part in this mess. "Mione's time-turner was clearly not designed for more than one user."

"Third year then." mused the older wizard. "What about you? You're a fourth year? Fifth maybe?"

"Fifth." came the quiet reply, after an initial hesitation.

"The Time Room." sighed the man. "They should put better wards on that thing, we don't have unlimited budget to hire new cleaning staff."

What was he talking about?

"S… Sirius fell." stammered the teenager, ignoring that nonsense. "He fell and… and I..."

"Oh… the Room of Death then." interrupted old them. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"The what?" asked Harry, intrigued and rather annoyed to be left out of the conversation.

"The Room of Death, in the Department of Mystery, contains the ugliest curtain in history." explained the older wizard. "The Veil of Death – that's its pet name – is supposedly a passageway to the afterlife. The Ministry likes to use it for executions, and little miss us there –" he indicated the young woman as she exited the cupboard, their younger self in tow. "– as a trash bin for priceless relics."

"Don't start again." she warned, pointing at the three motionless muggles. "We have bigger problems right now."

The eldest Potter surprised everyone when he swallowed back the witty remark he'd no doubt been about to unleash.

"You're right." he acknowledged, sighing. "Sorry."

Wow, first he riled their female-self up, and now he apologized for it? It was a fact now, old them was _really_ weird.

* * *

"You're right. Sorry."

Nineteen years old Iris Lily Potter blinked in disbelief at her counterpart's words. She had honestly started to believe the Auror – the robes were unmistakable – too prideful to recognize his faults – he almost sounded like a Slytherin – but he'd just forced her to reevaluate her opinion of him.

"So, the midget's up to date?" asked the man, motioning at young them.

The kid frowned at the insult and the witch sighed soundly. She'd clearly spoken too soon.

"Don't call your younger self a midget." she said. "And yes, he knows."

Talking to young Harry had been both depressing and liberating.

She'd quickly discovered that while she had only lost her father, the boy had known an even worst fate and lost both parents. He'd then been forced to live with those awful Dursleys, who'd treated him like dirt and shunned him for something he couldn't control. Merlin, why hadn't the wards she could feel around the house been directed inward too?

On a sweeter note, it truly had warmed her heart to see the boy's smile, shining brighter than the _Lumos_ she'd used to prove his wizardry heritage.

The following simplified course on the multiverse theory had been slightly more complex and put a really cute frown on his face, but Harry was a smart kid and he'd managed to understand… mostly. It had taken some convincing for him to see that the three boys now standing before him were just _versions_ of him and not his actual future selves.

"So, what now?" asked the younger wizard, glancing at the Dursleys.

"We need to establish new identities." reasoned the Hufflepuff. "We can't all be Harry James Potter."

"Ten points to Hufflepuff." joked the oldest them.

The teenager's eyes widened.

"How do you –?"

"I read your mind!" dramatically bellowed the Auror.

The teenager looked horrified.

"He saw your prefect's badge." smiled Iris, motioning at said ornament on his collar.

"Spoilsport." grumbled the man. "The kid's right though, we need new names and a plausible backstory."

"New names? You mean we can't be Potters anymore?"

"Seriously? You looked in a mirror recently?" asked back the man, voice dripping with sarcasm. "No, we look too much alike not to be related. We'll still be Potters, just not from the main branch."

"We could be cousins." offered the Hufflepuff.

"I'd like to have cousins." whispered the local them.

"Dad's an only child –" countered the eldest Potter, shacking his head. "– and Granddad Fleamont wasn't the sort to have an affair."

"What about Great-uncle Charlus and Great-aunt Dorea?" asked Iris.

"What about them? They never had any children."

"But what if they had?" she countered "Think about it, a potential heir or heiress to the Potter and Black Family, born during Voldemort's first rise to power. Dorea, fearing for her child's life, decides to send him or her into hiding, away from her family. Then comes the first war, but the child's safe, growing up in another country where he or she meets someone, later giving birth to three sons and a daughter. Years pass, along with the parents, and the four children, learning of their younger cousin through the wills, decide to return to England."

"Family first… could work." he acknowledged, before turning to his younger selves. "What do you think?"

The Hufflepuff shrugged and the youngest nodded softly.

"Shouldn't we ask dad before?" nervously asked the younger wizard.

"Huh… dad's dead." reminded the Hufflepuff.

"What? No, he's –"

"Dead." sharply interrupted the Auror, pointing at the youngest Potter. "I don't know what happened to _your_ James Potter, but Harry's living in that damn cupboard, so his dad is most certainly dead."

The young wizard looked at the somber kid and his eyes widened.

"Oh…" he mumbled. "Sorry."

Iris actually felt guilty at his mortified look. If she hadn't talked to young Harry, she probably would have made a similarly false assumption and suggested asking for Lily's help.

"You couldn't know." She reassured him. "Just… don't do it again."

His head stayed down but he nodded..

* * *

Twenty-three years old Harry James Potter growled. Not only had the kid grown up with his father, he had to rub it in their face. Merlin, the midget even had tears in his eyes.

For a split second, he actually wanted to hex the Gryffindor. With that sort of attitude and James' influence, he couldn't possibly have been sorted in another House.

"So, it's settled then, we're Harry's cousins." suddenly said the witch, interrupting his thoughts. "Name's Iris, by the way. What about you, brothers of mine?"

Iris Potter… she'd definitely been named by her mother.

"Huh… we're all Harry." deadpanned the Gryffindor.

Harry rolled his eyes and coughed a discreet 'Dumbass.'

The midget snorted while his new sister glared his way, probably tried to convey something like 'Don't be a jerk.'.

Whatever.

"I was asking for your new names." she clarified, turning back to the kid.

"Right… of course."

"Do you have any advice?" asked the Hufflepuff.

"Well, you should choose something you like, obviously. Also, don't use anything sounding too closely like Harry if you don't want to slip up."

"Zachariel."

The name was so usual by now that Harry had instinctively blurred it out.

Iris leveled a look at him.

"The angel of healing and mercy?"

Harry, or Zachariel now that he used his old and extremely ironic Unspeakable alias, shrugged.

"I used it before."

"Zachariel it is then." she accepted. "What about you two?"

"Sirius." croaked the fifth year, his voice filled with emotions.

Great, now Zach felt like hexing him too.

"Hey, good idea kiddo. Not confusing at all." he noted, using as grave a voice as possible. "Now pick something else."

"But –"

"NO!" he barked. "Sirius already lost his best friends, his godson and close to ten years in Azkaban. I won't let you steal his name too!"

That sobered the teenager.

"Can I use Orion then?" he hesitantly asked.

Merlin, that kid was stubborn.

"Sirius' middle name." remembered Iris.

"And his father's name." added Zach. "Dear old Orion Black, who let his wife use the _Imperio_ on Sirius as a form of discipline. No, you're not using that one either."

The fifth year looked so dejected that the older wizard almost felt a pang of remorse.

"Wait, you're talking about _Sirius Black_?" asked the third year student. "That bastard killed mom! Why would you want to be named after that traitor?!"

For his constructive intervention, he received a slap upside the head.

"You're talking too fast kid, again." growled the oldest Potter. "Our Sirius… Siriuses? Sounds weird. Whatever, they were innocent."

"Framed by Pettigrew." explained the Hufflepuff.

"Have the decency to respect the best godfather in existence or I'll use you for target practice." threatened Zachariel, showing his wand to drive the point home.

The ex-Unspeakable almost smirked when he received frantic nods from the Gryffindor.

"What about Regulus?" offered the witch all of a sudden, effectively ending his fun.

Wow, that's a name he'd never expected to hear again.

"Who?" asked the Gryffindor.

"Regulus Arcturus Black, Sirius' little brother, became a Death Eater, rebelled against Voldy, died a hero." he summarized, earning a gasp from the two students. "You're sure about that?"

"I don't see why not." shrugged the witch. "You said it yourself, he was reformed."

Zachariel marked a pause, sighed and pointed a finger at the Hufflepuff.

"Your name is Regulus Potter."

"What?"

"You want to honor Sirius' memory?"

"Of course, but–"

"Then get used to it, Reg."

The teenager looked about to complain again, but Zach didn't let him.

"You." he continued, turning toward the Gryffindor. "You found anything yet?"

"Huh… no, I –"

"If you don't have something in ten seconds, we're calling you Salazar." he threatened his young brother.

"WHAT?!" yelled the Gryffindor in outrage.

"Nine..."

"Za~ch!" warned Iris.

He ignored her.

"Eight..."

"Are you crazy?!"

"Seven..."

"I'm a Gryffindor, you can't seriously –"

That confirmed it then.

Zachariel smirked and carried on.

"Six..."

"But…"

"Five."

"I..."

"Four..."

"GODRIC, CALL ME GODRIC!"

The older wizard threw a smug look at the witch, clearly meaning 'See? My method was faster.'

"You're impossible." she complained.

"Love you too, sis." he replied.

* * *

Regulus Potter didn't know if he was supposed to laugh at his new siblings' antics or curse Zachariel for his new name.

He was named after a Death Eater! One who had apparently done the right thing in the end and rebelled against Voldemort, but a Death Eater nonetheless.

The Hufflepuff sighed in acceptance. His olderbrother had said that it would honor Sirius' memories and since their dear sister had agreed with him, he would trust them and bear with it.

It wouldn't stop him from looking into that Regulus Arcturus Black's history though.

"Okay, so we have an angel, a flower, a star and a Founder. Our parents were insane." jovially said Zach. "Time to officialize it all."

"How do we do that?" asked the newly dubbed Godric, apparently sorted in Gryffindor. "We can't really falsify ministry documents."

"No, but our pointy-eared friends can." continued the older wizard, kneeling before the young Harry. "Have you ever seen a goblin?"

The kid shook his head.

"Wanna see one?"

And now he was making an almost perfect Dobby impression.

Zachariel laughed and slowly put his hands on the young wizard's shoulder, ready to side-apparate him to Diagon Alley.

"Are you crazy?!" interfered Regulus, starling the man. "You can't go out like this! We have to hide his scar. Ours too, for that matter."

The oldest Potter marked a brief pause before nodding slowly, conceding the point, but Regulus wasn't done yet.

"And you thought about Dumbledore? You grab Harry and apparate to the Leaky Cauldron, what do you think happen then? His monitoring charms will ring like crazy and before we so much as put a foot in Gringotts, we'll have the entire Order on our asses."

"Language!" admonished Iris, covering young them's ears and earning rolling eyes from all three wizards.

"Remind me what you called Zachariel earlier, Iris?"

"I think it was something like 'asshole'." mocked Godric.

Iris glared at them.

Zachariel smirked and gave them a thumb up.

"Insults aside –" continued the annoyed witch. "– you do have a point, Regulus. Albus would surely think that we're kidnapping Harry if he's removed from the house via apparition."

"So what? We leave him behind and go to Gringotts by ourselves?" questioned Godric.

"That's an option, albeit not an ideal one." confirmed Iris, taking in young Harry's saddened expression at the prospect of being left alone.

"Definitely not." instantly retorted Zach. "We'll be messing with the Potter family's ledger, the kid's coming with us."

"That leaves option two. We call Albus and tell him everything."

Regulus found that reasonable enough.

While he wasn't all that found of the Headmaster himself, especially after the hide and seek game they'd played throughout the entire year, the old wizard remained an influential figure. Revealing their true origins would no doubt earn them a powerful ally.

"NO FUCKING WAY!" snarled Zachariel.

"DON'T CURSE!" yelled back Iris.

"I'll stop fucking cursing when you _dumbasses_ stop trying to get yourselves bloody MINDWIPED BY THAT FUCKING PUPPETEER."

Okay, their elder brother had roared before, but that was on an entirely other level. Harry had even shielded himself behind Iris.

"What do you mean?" carefully asked Godric.

Regulus had been about to ask the exact same question, wondering why Zachariel had reacted so vehemently against their sister's proposition.

"Right, you don't know." said the elder wizard, snapping his fingers in realization. "Basically, the old coot orchestrated our entire life like a _f_ _reak_ _ing drama_ for some stupid _'greater good'_ bullshit, simply because he couldn't find it in himself to lift his wrinkled ass from his chair and deal with the mess he'd caused in the first place. It's simple, I did the math once and his death toll through sheer inaction almost rivals Tommy-boy's highscore. He left Sirius to rot in Azkaban, left us in Dursley-land despite the abuses and ignored the dark-magic detection wards around the school which wailed for seven years. Hell, he even bounded Fawkes to his office. He. Fucking. Bounded. A. Phoenix! If Severus hadn't mercy-killed the bastard, I would have offed him myself."

Okay, too many information there.

According to Zachariel, Dumbledore was manipulating them all into a life of misery, had indirectly caused almost as many deaths as Voldemort and had even restrained a creature as pure as a phoenix against its will. Also, Severus-freaking-Snape would one day kill the headmaster out of mercy – and wasn't it hard to swallow that the greasy potion master even knew the existence of that word? – thus preventing Harry from doing it himself.

"The hell?!"

* * *

Iris Potter was… well, stunned.

She hadn't expected Zachariel to suddenly yell at her, even less to curse like a sailor despite Harry's presence. But most unexpected of all were his words.

Albus Dumbledore, a puppet master? Surely not, that man was like the grandfather she'd never had, always kind and forgiving, always there to look out for her.

"He knew about Sirius?" breathed Regulus.

"Albus Dumbledore, dark wizard… It seems… wrong." added Godric.

But Zachariel wasn't really talking about her Albus there, he was talking about his. One who'd apparently given in to temptation and distanced himself from the Light, falling into a whirlwind of manipulation. That version of the man had ceased to consider the casualties, seeing others as dolls instead.

"He's a pretty convincing dark lord when he starts throwing Imperius curses around."

"Zach." she interjected. "Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?"

"What?"

"This isn't your world. It's not mine either, nor Regulus' or Godric's. This is Harry's reality, but you're already supposing that this version of the man is the same as yours. For all we know, he could be a polar opposite."

"She has a point." reluctantly acknowledged the Hufflepuff.

"Who's talking without thinking now?" grumbled the Gryffindor.

"Right, other dimension." realized the oldest Potter.

"We can't trust our memories." she insisted. "We'll have to question everything."

Zachariel nodded, along with Regulus.

Harry was clearly trying to follow, though how successfully remained unclear.

"But… how do we check something like this?" asked Godric. "We breach into Hogwarts and pump Dumbledore full of veritaserum?"

"Are you suicidal?" asked the witch, not believing her own ears. "We can't just enter the school like that."

"Honeydukes' cellar." countered the Gryffindor.

"The Whomping Willow" added Regulus.

"The Chamber of Secret." finished Zachariel.

"Okay, okay, so we _can_ get in the castle." recognized their sister. "But.. let's not."

"We could call Fawkes." proposed the Hufflepuff. "He'll tell us if Albus can be trusted. And if he's already under hypnosis… well, a young chick is easier to handle than an adult phoenix."

"Good thinking, kiddo." beamed Zachariel. "I guess you're not totally useless for a Hufflepuff."

Iris refrained from pointing out that said Hufflepuff had already prevented several incidents since their arrival.

Instead, she proposed her own plan.

"I'd rather avoid killing a phoenix. I say we check the map." she said, retrieving said magical artifact from an inner pocket and putting it on the nearby table.

"The Marauder's map?" asked Godric.

"You know any other map?"

"You're telling us that _this_ –" began Zach, pointing at the thin palladium/platinum/goblin metal alloy tablet inscribed with intertwined lines of runes. "– is the map?"

The witch could understand their skepticism, it looked nothing like the original parchment.

"Version 7.0." she confirmed, pointing her wand at the device.

A low humming sound and a glowing three-dimensional representation of Hogwarts instantly invaded the living room.

Harry, Godric and Regulus gasped.

Zachariel sighed.

"Let me guess, Ravenclaw?"

She smiled and got to work. In a swift hand motion, the display shifted from a general perspective to an accurate and most importantly _live_ representation of the Headmaster's office.

"That's Albus." she explained, indicating a light-blue glowing human shape. "Neutral aura, leaning to the Light, according to the readings. No dark artifacts on his person or around the office either, except for the Elder Wand."

"It's not a –" started the eldest Potter.

"Dark artifact?" interrupted the witch. "Please, it belongs to Death, you can hardly make any darker than that."

"It belongs to _me_." he grumbled.

She ignored him.

"What about Fawkes?" asked Regulus, pointing at the smaller, brighter shape.

"Unshackled, free of any curse or mind altering hex and… still several weeks away from a burning day."

"That thing can scan a phoenix?" exclaimed Godric.

"Sure it can." she replied, shutting down and retrieving the map. "My Fawkes let me conduct some tests and register his signature."

"So, who's calling the flaming chicken?" asked the Auror.

"Shouldn't you do it?" wondered the Gryffindor. "You're probably stronger."

"No way in hell." rebutted the oldest wizard. "I'd rather the bird focus on someone else when he appears, so I can take him down if the need arises."

"But… Iris said…"

"I heard what she said, but I'm not going to trust her gadget until I'm one hundred percent sure that it's still accurate in this dimension. Question everything, she said that too."

"Oh… can I do it then?"

"Why don't we let Regulus call him?" suggested Iris. "He came up with the idea in the first place, after all."

The silent Hufflepuff, receiving agreeing nods, took a deep breath and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"FAWKES!"

* * *

Fawkes, immortal phoenix and mascot of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was lazily hanging on his perch when he heard his name being called by a stranger.

He wasn't exactly supposed to answer, but the voice seemed friendly enough, if a little forceful, and he was rather bored anyway. The majestic bird gave the equivalent of a shrug and vanished in a burst of flames.

Reappearing in a second blaze, he glanced at the scene around him… blinked… and jaunted back to the Headmaster's office.

There, on the old wizard's desk, was the usual bowl filled with the lemon treats that he liked to steal. He picked at the sweets and confirmed that, no, they didn't contain any mind-altering or hallucinogenic product.

How peculiar.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was rather puzzled by his phoenix's behavior.

His majestic companion, who only ever left his perch to hunt his food in the Forbidden Forest or fly around the school, had just burst out of the office, only to return mere seconds later.

He was now picking at his lemon drops, a confused expression on his face.

The bird suddenly looked up, blinked and vanished again.

How peculiar.

* * *

Phoenixes were avian creatures of light and fire, symbols of life and death forever existing in an everlasting cycle of rebirth.

Fawkes, being such a blessed creature, was thus extremely knowledgeable and couldn't be easily surprised. He'd simply seen it all before.

Well, except for that, obviously.

Never before had he witnessed Space and Time themselves bending enough to produce such an aberration.

Oh, he was well aware of the countless parallel universes revolving around each other. He'd even explored a few of them, a dozen centuries ago.

But never had he imagined that his home dimension would one day be invaded by four realm jumpers… or was it just one, since they were all the same person?

"He's back." observed the second youngest.

"Why is he burning?" asked the youngest, this world's original.

"He's a phoenix, it's natural." provided the female. "Don't worry, it doesn't hurt him."

"Okay."

"Will you listen to us now?" asked a slightly older male, probably in the middle of his school years.

The ancient bird nodded, eager to hear their story.

It had to be interesting, if only for the existence of a copy of his wizard's stick, which the last visitor was now pointing at his back.

* * *

Harry Potter, ten years old and future wizard, was slowly coming to term with the strangeness of his existence.

His parents hadn't been drunkards who'd died in a car crash, but a wizard and a witch murdered by a mad sorcerer. His godfather, possibly the last loving family he had, had been stuck in jail for nine long years, either as a traitorous psychopath or a framed innocent.

He himself was extremely famous in the wizardry world, for surviving a curse supposedly unsurvivable, thus stopping the mad sorcerer – and possibly his godfather, if the man had been evil.

Last but not least, he'd just gained four cousins who were in fact alternate versions of himself.

Strange…

Even weirder was the flaming bird's traveling method. Once Regulus had explained their circumstances, Fawkes had nodded and _set them on fire._ Harry would have shouted, but the burning sensation had disappeared instantly, replaced by an appeasing warmth.

Looking around him now, the ten years old realized that they'd moved from the Dursleys' home to a small office filled with strange trinkets. Some contraptions moved by themselves, the paintings on the walls were looking at them funny and an old man with a long beard and a bright purple dress was chocking on something.

"Merlin!" called Harry, recognizing the famous mage from an old picture book he'd read once.

Why had the others called him Albus if the man was really Merlin? Was he hiding his identity? Either way, Regulus, Godric and Iris seemed to find it funny.

The wizard's coughing fit doubled in intensity, until he managed to spit something behind his desk.

"Are you okay, Albus?" asked Iris.

"I am fine, miss…?" raspily asked the man.

"Potter."

"That much is obvious, you bear typical Potter traits." chuckled Merlin, regaining his composure. "But I was rather referring to your first name. You call me Albus, it is only proper for me to address you in a similar manner."

"Iris." replied his cousin.

"Iris." repeated the old wizard, smiling. "Now, may I ask why Fawkes decided to retrieve all three of you alongside young Harry here? I know better than to question my phoenix's decisions, but –"

"Three?" interrupted Iris, letting her sight wander around the office. "Godric, Reg… where's Zach?"

"Here."

Harry jumped, startled by the sudden voice. Turning around, the young boy came face to face with an angry and really _really_ wet wizard.

"Fawkes found it funny to drop me in the lake."

The three youngest wizards in attendance stifled a laugh, while their female relative did nothing to hide her satisfied smirk. Behind them, Merlin crossed his hands and smiled innocently, the phoenix on his shoulder trilling happily.

Zachariel glared at the bird.

"You have something to say, chicken?"

Another trill, more subdued, as the bird took flight, leaving the old wizard to sit on a bird perch, further away from Zachariel.

"Thought so." nodded his cousin, drying his clothes with a mere wave of his hand.

Zach spoke bird? Was that another form of magic?

"Don't antagonize Fawkes." warned Iris.

"He started it."

"I don't care." she replied "How did you come anyway? The castle should prevent apparition."

"It didn't look like apparition." remarked Godric.

"You melted out of the shadows." added Regulus.

Apparition was the teleportation technique they'd almost used before, right? How was it supposed to look like then? He would have to ask them.

"My means of travel isn't to be shared." said Zach. "My lips are sealed."

Iris' eyes widened.

"You don't mean…?"

"My lips. Are. Sealed."

Merlin coughed and… were his eyes twinkling?

"Perhaps should we forget Mr. …?"

"Zachariel."

"Mr. Zachariel's unconventional arrival and focus on the matter at hand." continued the old mage. "As I was saying, far it from an old wizard like me to question a phoenix's decisions, but I have only ever known of one person beside young Harry with eyes such a shade of green. Your respective stories would no doubt prove entertaining, particularly the part about getting those matching scars."

"We can't get anything past you, can we?" asked Regulus, his face blank and his voice underlined with a hint of anger.

Harry didn't know why he would act this way toward Merlin, but Zach was nodding in approval, while Iris looked sad and understanding.

"Regulus, calm down." she requested, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I understand your loss, but this isn't the time nor the place."

Oh, right, he'd lost his godfather, a good version of him. But why would he blame Merlin for it? Had his Merlin caused his godfather's death?

The teenager sighed.

"You're right… sorry."

"Don't mention it." smiled his sister, turning back to Merlin. "So, you clearly understand that we're Harry's counterparts, gathered in this universe through various incidents. I myself was trying to time-travel, accomplishing a dimensional shift instead. Godric here –"

The youngest traveler shifted uncomfortably.

"– suffered a time-turner mishap, while Regulus –"

Said young wizard grunted slightly.

"– fell through the Veil of Death. As for Zach, he used –"

"What I used is none of his business!" barked the eldest Potter, startled all three younger boys.

Harry was sure that he would never get used to those brutal shifts in attitude.

"But –" started Iris.

"Are you really willing to tempt him with a power you don't even trust in your own hands?"

The witch sighed.

"Fine…"

"I don't know what my counterpart did to you, Zachariel –" began Merlin. "– but I apologize for his actions. Is there possibly a way for me to regain your trust?"

"Not being an ass would be a start."

"Language!"

"I think I can do that." chuckled the old wizard. "Miss Iris does have a point though, you shouldn't use such words around children."

"She uses them too." happily provided Harry.

The witch blushed.

"Zach was acting all mighty and..." she tried to defend herself, before coughing awkwardly. "Anyway, I probably could send us all back in our respective universes if I altered my ritual, but it would require time and extensive researches. In the meantime, our identities in this dimension would need to be established through… slightly illegal channels."

"She means Gringotts." summarized Godric.

"I figured as much." smiled Merlin. "What I don't understand though, is my own involvement. If you'd gone there by yourselves and crafted your backstory properly – which I have no doubt, you would have. – even I would have been fooled. Why then reveal your origins?"

"Because we're about to mess with the family ledger and Harry has a right to see it. Personally, I would have kept you in the dark, but those three – mostly Reg. – convinced me that removing Harry from our dear relatives' _care –_ " Zach spatted that word. "– without any warning would create unnecessary confusion and panic."

"Harry's supposed to receive his Hogwarts letter in a few days anyway." added Iris. "You can say that we're being proactive."

His letter, inviting him to a magical school… the ten years old boy couldn't wait.

"… I see." nodded Merlin. "Should I assume from your tone, Mr. Zachariel, that your request refers to more than this single trip to the bank?"

"That's correct." confirmed the wizard. "The Dursleys don't like him. Never have and never will. The blood wards may have been a sufficient reason to keep him there for the past nine years, but our arrival rendered the 'blood relative' point moot. We're getting him out of that hellhole you call a house, whether you like it or not."

Harry's neck swirled toward his cousin at… well, breakneck speed.

In a whisper, filled with all the disbelief and hope he suddenly felt bubbling inside of him, the young wizard voiced his thoughts.

"What?"

* * *

Albus didn't know if he was supposed to chuckle at young Harry's stunned and happy look, or cry at its implications.

If the boy's submissive attitude and clearly oversized clothing hadn't been enough of a clue, his older counterpart's words had achieved to convince the old wizard that he'd made a mistake when he'd entrusted the boy to his aunt… a truly enormous mistake.

"We're not letting you live there anymore." repeated Zachariel. "As soon as we're established in this world, we're getting you out of Dursley-land –"

He smirked and added:

"– cousin."

Albus' heart contracted to the point of hurt as a sunny smile bloomed on Harry's face.

For years, he'd believed that Petunia would manage to overcome her hatred for their world. That once facing her sister's son, the last remnant of her legacy, she would remember the love she'd once held for her sibling.

He'd been wrong.

"Where would you live?" he asked softly, his strained voice drawing the five Potters' attention.

"You're not arguing?" asked Iris, surprise evident in her voice.

"I'm not." he confirmed. "My decision clearly brought much injustice on young Harry and for that, I can never hope to be forgiven. For now, I would merely like to – to put it in Mr. Zachariel's rather colorful words – not be an ass."

"Language." admonished the young witch, but her heart clearly wasn't in it.

Much like the two younger travelers, her eyes held a mix of bitterness and sadness. They resented him for the boy's harsh upbringing – thought some more so than others, for some reasons – but couldn't bring themselves to hate him. It was clear to them that his guilt would soon eat him alive.

As for Zachariel…

"12 Grimmault Place." announced the man in a drone-like manner. "Fortified by generations of Black wards and under _Fidelius."_

His face was a blank slate, betraying the use of Occlumency. Expected from an Unspeakable – he'd recognized the _Shadow_ _w_ _alk_ , plus the man had all but admitted it. – but strange in this particular context.

Albus had seen him act impulsively before, out of anger or annoyance. Why then, hide behind a mask now? Were his emotions regarding his own childhood and Albus' influence on it so overwhelming that he'd preferred to squish them, least he would have done something drastic?

The answer was most probably positive.

Sadly, Albus didn't have the time nor the desire to ponder all the misdeeds his counterpart had indirectly – he hoped – performed toward his visitor. Understanding the peculiar choice of housing was a lot more pressing.

"The Black ancestral home? Why would you go there? Why would you even have access to it in the first place?"

Iris raised her hand, a matte black ring suddenly adorning her finger.

"I – and Zach, I imagine – inherited the Black lordship after Sirius'… disappearance." explained Iris, glancing at Regulus.

"He left you…" chocked the Headmaster.

"Our Sirius – Siriuses? – were innocent, framed by the real traitor." she added, before he could muster the numerous questions which had started to cloud his mind.

"Innocent..."

Another unforgivable mistake.

Merlin, what had he done?

"At the moment, we don't know if your Sirius is innocent or not." she tried to reassure him. "Godric's wasn't."

The young wizard nodded, confirming his sister's words.

Albus caught himself almost wishing for the man to be guilty. It would spare him yet another burden.

"We'll ask Amelia Bones to conduct a proper trial later." concluded the witch. "In the meantime, please, don't act on any of this knowledge. It could tip off the wrong sort of person and we'd like to try and avoid any catastrophic fallout."

Albus painfully swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth before nodding gravely. Taking a deep breath, he gathered what remained of his shaken confidence and returned to the matter at hand, the family's housing.

"Grimmault Place would certainly be satisfying." he asserted. "Will you need any help to deal with Gringotts?"

"Zach and I are Lord and Lady of Houses Potter and Black." pointed out Iris. "We also have knowledge of several future events that will impact Gringotts, the Wizarding World, the Muggle World and their respective economies."

Right, so they didn't need help.

"Access to your floo would be appreciated though." she added. "Unless Fawkes is willing to remove us from the castle's anti-apparition wards?"

Albus glanced at his phoenix companion.

Young Harry had apparently grown bored of the complicated discussion and decided to start petting the magical bird.

"So warm..." absentmindedly whispered the boy, his fingers brushing the dozing off phoenix's feathers.

"He's busy I'm afraid, and I would want to risk awakening him." smiled the old wizard.

Last time he'd done so, Fawkes had flamed his lemon drops away for an entire week.

"I hope this will do?" he asked, fishing a pouch of floo powder from his desk's lower drawer.

"I will, thank you Albus." replied Iris, retrieving the bag as she called her youngest counterpart. "Harry, come here. We're going."

* * *

"Already?" sighed Harry.

He'd just started petting Fawkes. Couldn't they stay a bit longer?

"Sorry, but this must be done quickly." apologized Iris. "And you can always come back later, while we're cleaning the house. I'm sure Albus wouldn't mind."

Harry turned to the old wizard with wide hopeful eyes and the man nodded, amused.

He would have yelled 'Awesome!', but the bird was sleeping and he didn't want to disturb him. Instead, he beamed and obediently trotted to his cousins.

"Okay, Fawkes brought us here by flame-travel, but phoenixes are rare and highly remarkable." explained Iris. "Since we don't want to stand out, we're going to Gringotts by floo, which is the favored method for long-range transportation to frequented destinations. Zach will go first, to show you how it's done."

The oldest him grabbed a handful of powder from his sister's pouch and stepped in the chimney. A brief 'Gringotts.', a flash of green flames and he was gone.

Harry wondered if floo-travel and phoenix-travel were related.

"See, he just threw the floo powder and called for his destination. Pretty easy right?" offered Iris. "Here, take some."

The future wizard did so and confidently entered the fireplace.

"Ten galleons he ends up on his ass." smirked Godric.

"That's a sucker bet." replied Regulus, shacking his head. "He's a Potter, of course he'll end up on his ass."

"Boys!" warned Iris. "Don't listen to them Harry, you're gonna be fine."

Okay, so he was feeling slightly less confident right now.

Swallowing nervously, he threw the powder down and called 'Gringotts'.

Green assaulted his vision for two to three seconds, before vanishing entirely. The ten years old boy stumbled forward, his legs failing after the unusual relocation, but someone caught him by the shoulder and stabilized him.

"Easy kid." said Zachariel. "Floo induces temporary vertigo when you're not used to it. Take a deep breath."

He did just that, simultaneously admiring his new surroundings.

A vast marble hall, split in two by a long counter behind which stood rows of stool, occupied by small pointy-eared beings in scarlet and gold uniforms. The goblins – they had to be – were all discussing with clients, weighting gem stones or taking notes in large ledgers, when they weren't accompanying people from and to the various gates opening around the room.

Gringotts.

"Good." approved the wizard. "Now step aside if you don't want the others to fall on you."

Weak legs or not, Harry hurried to move away.

Just in time too, as Regulus appeared in a blaze, stumbled and landed face-first on the floor.

"Freaking floo." grumbled the teenager, rubbing his nose and moving away from the fireplace.

"Elegant –" smirked his older brother. "– but there's room for improvement."

As if to demonstrated, Godric was violently ejected from the floo, crashing several feet away in a tangle of arms and legs.

Harry was sure that he would have done exactly that if Zach hadn't restrained him.

"See?" smirked said cousin.

That earned him a glare from Regulus.

"Zach, stop being a jerk and help him." called Iris, calmly stepping out of the chimney.

Godric was promptly up and the entire family walked up to the bank's counter.

"Good morning, master goblin." said the witch, slightly bowing. "My brothers, my younger cousin and myself would like to consult Gringotts in regards to… conflicting magical inheritances."

The goblin's right eyebrow rose slightly and Harry found the perplexed expression really funny, but Zachariel's reaction topped it immediately, the wizard making strange deep sounds with his mouth.

Harry would have laughed at the dumbstruck look Iris was giving her brother, but the banker had apparently understood.

"He shall receive you." nodded the goblin, calling a guard.

"Thank you." replied Zach, before moving toward the armored goblin and motioning for them to follow.

"You speak Gobbledegook?" asked Iris as they traveled deeper into the bank.

"Gobbledygook?" repeated Harry.

"Gobbledegook, with an e, the goblin's language." corrected Zachariel, before shrugging. "It has its uses."

"I know that." replied the witch. "I just can't see you voluntarily mustering the time to learn another language… like, ever."

"Who said it was voluntary?" smirked her brother. "My wife threatened to make me sleep on the couch for an entire month if I didn't learn to _properly respect our esteemed investors_."

'His wife?' thought Harry.

"YOUR WIFE?!" yelled the others.

Further questioning was sadly prevented when the guard stopped in front of an office, almost physically threw them all inside and soundly shut the door behind them.

Harry would have happily enjoyed several seconds of stunned silence with his dimensional cousins, if a smiling goblin hadn't suddenly called them from behind his desk.

"Greetings, misters Potter and Potter, heir Potter, Lady Potter-Black, Lord Potter-Black-Peverell-Greengrass." said the goblin, shiny fangs threatening to split his face in two. "My name is Remnack and I will be your adviser today."

"Impressive." acknowledged Zach. "How did you know?"

"Your rings registered on our wards when you entered the bank." replied Remnack.

"Useful."

"I think so too." smirked the banker. "Please, take a seat."

"Thank you." said the wizard, sitting down.

Harry mumbled his own thanks and did the same.

The others remained frozen in place, staring at Zach as if he'd suddenly grown not one, but two more heads.

"Now, unto business." started the goblin. "We are talking about dimensional travel coupled with time travel, correct?"

A nod.

"How many years?"

"Three for Godric, five for Regulus, around seven or eight for Iris, thirteen for me."

"You already choose new identities, good." observed Remnack. "And yourself?"

"Zachariel."

"… was that name work-inherited?"

"Yes."

"I see." mused the goblin. "So, what about your history?"

"Charlus and Dorea Potter's grandchildren."

"Your great-uncle and aunt." acknowledged the banker. "Excellent choice, it will explain your Black rings."

"That's what we had in mind, yes."

"Regarding the Peverell inheritance, it can be kept under wraps as most believe it lost to time, but the Greengrass ring will prove problematic."

The second mention of Zach's wife's maiden name efficiently unfroze Godric, Iris and Regulus, who chose to express their surprise with a common shout of –

"GREENGRASS?!"

Harry jumped in his seat, ears ringing from the sudden assault.

"Yes, Greengrass." calmly said Zachariel.

"You… you're…" stammered Iris. "You're _gay_?!"

"What?" spluttered the wizard. "Where's that coming from?"

"You married a Greengrass and I only know of two around our age, Daniel and Austin. They had no other siblings, plus their parents died somewhere around our six year, so it had to be one of them."

"Different reality." reminded Regulus. "His Greengrasses were girls."

"What he said." confirmed his older brother.

"You married Daphne Greengrass?" asked Godric, horrified. "The Ice Queen of Slytherin?"

"Or Astoria." added his elder brother.

"She's younger than us." pointed out Godric.

"By only two years." countered Regulus. "It doesn't mean much when you get older."

"It was Daph." finally replied Zach. "Astoria married Draco."

Godric and Regulus winced.

"Poor girl."

"Who's Draco?" asked Iris.

"Draco Malfoy." answered her brother. "Lucius' little nightmare."

Iris began to massage her brow.

"Why?" she complained dramatically. "Why are all my year-mates gender bend in your dimensions?"

Instead of answering, Zach laughed goodheartedly.

"An even more effeminate Draco? I'd pay to see that!"

"I wouldn't." said Regulus.

"I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit." commented Godric, looking slightly green.

Harry was completely lost with the various names, but his cousins' reactions remained funny anyway.

* * *

Zachariel was snickering softly, picturing a breasted Draco Malfoy with long hair. He was one hundred percent certain that he'd just found an alternate way to cast the _Expecto Patronum_.

A cough abruptly interrupted his train of though and caused him to glance at his family, looking quite sheepish under the goblin counselor's gaze.

"Sorry." they all said in unison, the three standing ones hurriedly claiming seats.

"As I was saying –" repeated Remnack. "– the Greengrass ring will prove problematic. Gringotts is bound by oath to inform Lord Alexander Greengrass of your existence and your claim to his title."

"I know." grimaced the ex-Unspeakable.

"Title which you simply can't renounce anyway, as your ring already accepted you."

The wizard sighed deeply.

"Since Lord Alexander's Lordship supersedes your own, you _will_ have to present yourself before him and although you won't have to _explain_ yourself, I strongly advise you to do so. He may be unable to accuse you of line theft, or revoke your ring and claim to the Greengrass name, but he can mark you as an outcast and remove you from the main branch."

"Yep, that would be right up his alley." chuckled Zach, remembering the many encounters he'd had with the man during his school years. "How long until your oath kicks in?"

"Three days." replied the goblin.

"Huh… Zach." interrupted Iris. "The Greengrasses are an old family, right?"

"Almost on par with the Black lineage, yes." he answered "Why?"

"They wouldn't happen to have a family tapestry, like the one in Grimmault Place, would they?"

"Sure, it's in the manor's main study, right next to the…"

His words got stuck in his throat as realization dawned on him.

Then he cursed loudly.

"I thought so." sighed his sister.

* * *

Many miles away, an eleven years old girl entered her mother's office. She returned the book she'd just finished and was about to exit the room when something caught her eyes on the family tapestry.

She looked at the anomaly, blinked, blinked again… and yelled.

"FATHEEEEER!"

* * *

Back in Gringotts, Zach just kept on cursing.

He was _so_ screwed!


End file.
